


Dixit Delirium

by Soak



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, Post-Time Skip, the title is for the author more than the characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soak/pseuds/Soak
Summary: An ambitious tactic from their Professor leaves Ashe and Petra fleeing into the mountains. Despite healing the wounds closed, blood loss can still let guarded thoughts fall out into the open.--or--Loopy Petra is sometimes braver than her lucid self.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Dixit Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> Idk????? What is tone, anyway?
> 
> I wanted to practice writing action-y, violent stuff and then bing-bang-boom I have a romcom ending. Don't ask me how, I'm just as confused. And tired. Mostly tired.

"Are you sure?" Byleth asked them, her face bloodied and covered in soot.

"We can be doing it." Petra nodded from atop her wyvern, taking the brief respite to chug a concoction from her saddlebags. Her armor was dented, blackened along one side.

Ashe had trouble finding his breath. The sword hadn't pierced his breastplate, thankfully, but his body was still reeling from the impact. "We're ready, Professor. Don't worry."

"Fine." Byleth looked over the fields outside the village. They had hemmed the imperial soldiers between it and them, but the raiding party had managed to rally in time. A staunch defense was keeping their relief party at bay while Adrestian soldiers continued to torch buildings, the glow visible in the dusk. "I only want you up there long enough to give the villagers time to flee. The second they leave, you do too. Got it?"

The two wyvern riders nodded; though stilted, very much banged up.

"Good. Now go!" Byleth turned before she could see them fly off. "Dorothea! Keep those archers busy! Sylvain, Felix, come with me!"

The rest of the professor's orders were lost the wind, rushing by Ashe's ears. He followed Petra high into the air, soaring up and over the Adrestian lines. The scent of smoke was everywhere, their battalions clashing below. Dark, ominuous clouds were laid thick in the sky, embers like fireflies blowing across the farmlands. 

Ashe kicked his heels against Roland, spurring his mount on. The village was growing quickly, and they could start to see the individual cottages and barns on fire. "How are we doing this?" he called out.

Petra looked over, scanning the raid. "Mages! Removing their fire would be most important!"

"Are you sure?" A knot of fear--not unusual, though larger than it had been--welled up in Ashe. A wyvern rider could tear through a spear formation, but magic would punish them easily. Goddess forbid they had wind magic up their sleeves.

Petra looked back, eyes narrowed in that cold determination he so often admired. Red-hot flicks of flame sped past them both. She nodded.

Gritting his teeth, Ashe pulled on his reins and followed her into a steep dive. The grass and flames melded into one before he evened out, charging right into their unsuspecting quarry. He needn't do more than lightly swing his axe--mage's robes were all too thin.

They soared into the village seconds later, Ashe--his wyvern, his armor, his skin and hair--sporting new streaks of red. Brutal, quick, done on instinct, the swathe they cut through was plain to see. They turned around over the fires, readying another assault. He stole a quick glance at Petra beside him. Breathing hard, bloodied, but it didn't appear to be her own. 

All right, back into the thick of it.

A sizzling arc of fire went over his head as his axe blade bit though a rib cage. They were ready this time, but so far Roland's agility was keeping him safe. Another backhand swing, finding purchase in a limitless sea of red clothes. Angry bolts of magic were coming from all directions as they fought on through. More reflexive swinging, more screaming. His stomach churned as it always did.

He picked up into the skies, lungs and arms and thighs screaming. A roll of thunder drowned out the din of battle for a moment. Ashe looked around--Petra gone. The air seized up in his throat, she had been next to him the whole way-

With a cry, another wyvern broke free from the Adrestian formation. The rider on top was slumping heavily to one side. Ashe pulled on his reins and allowed her to catch up, even if some spells could hit him. 

"Petra! Are you okay?"

"I- I am fine!" She swore some words in Brigidese, sucking in a breath through her teeth. "Do not be worrying! We are needing to buy more time!"

"What happened!" Ashe pulled up beside her, looking her over. More plates of steel had been blown off, one shoulder completely unprotected. The dark soot of magic had gone from her thighs to her neck--a powerful spell had connected, dispersed just barely by the enchantments in their armor. 

"Forget your worries for me!" She pointed back at the village. "They are almost leaving, we need to be stopping the enemy! "

A handful of families had finally given up on their homes, scuttling out from the flaming rooftops and fleeing into the foothills. Lightning cracked above, illuminating the few elderly and weak that were still evacuating. A fireball crashed into a market stall, sending produce and wood flying, nearby townsfolk falling to the ground.

Ashe looked over her closely. Petra wore a bright grimace, one hand holding her shoulder through the blasted plates and frayed padding. Her wyvern was breathing heavily, the axe she held was stained and blackened. She was powerful and awesome in a way he wanted to see as little as possible. It still made his heart squirm. 

He looked into her eyes for the barest of moments. "All right." They couldn't abandon them now. "I'll follow you."

Petra sized him up for a moment, then nodded with a pleased, pained grin. "I am hoping that will always be the case." Like a knight from his books, she yanked on her reins and sped towards the earth.

Swordsmen had gathered up by their mages this time as they crashed back into the fray. It was difficult enough to weave through fire spells, but the thrusting blades made it nigh impossible. An edge caught his thigh, white flames dipping through his armor. Still his axe kept coming down like righteous anger, sundering wizard and fighter alike with each blow. It crushed through mail, sliced cloth, and went through flesh all the same. 

Roland dived away from a spell, feet skimming the earth. A cry came from Ashe's right, a swordsman charging with his weapon overhead. He caught it with the metal shaft of his axe, throwing the chop away. Wasting not a moment, he brought the flat of his weapon down on his enemy's head, denting their helmet. They reeled, stunned, as another vicious axe swing came down.

"Petra!" Ashe called into the night, his face hot with new blood. "Talk to me!"

Another wyvern crashed beside him. Her tomahawk flew out into the fray. "More! Not long!" Her Fódlanese always deteriorated under pressure, not that he could blame her. 

Their wyvern's feet stomped like drums as they fended off their foes, weaving and dodging and giving back better than they got. The axe in his hands was growing heavier by the second, each parry sending an earthquake up his arms. He swung, feeling the crunch of metal as more and more kept coming. 

A disc of blue magic sizzled from the crowd before them. Ashe ducked, but it wasn't meant for him. Petra cried out.

He heard her hit the ground, and he was already off his mount. The earth felt dry and cracked under his boots. He threw his axe down and grabbed a handaxe from his bags. Stumbling, searching, he found her, heaving and fighting for air. An Adrestian charged him--he dipped inside their swing and punched them, metal gauntlets crushing cheek and nose.

Not enough time to do more. He picked her up over his shoulder, one arm free, brandishing his axe. Roland screeched and roared, his jaws crushing a warrior who got too close. Ashe's handaxe bit into a shoulder of another. He swung again, finishing it, and hauled himself up into the saddle.

"Go!" Ashe shouted at his own wyvern, not even in his stirrups as he kicked his heels in. He looked around--Petra's own wyvern was looking over, pained and angry and confused. The Brigidese came to him quickly, just as Petra had asked him to remember. " _Reith i behfad_!"

Two wyverns fled in opposite directions.

Snarling bolts of magic trailed him far into the skies. That damn wind magic had no intention of letting up, harrying Ashe as he flew further into the foothills. Petra jumbled and shook in his grip, his arms already exhausted and threatening to give out. Lightning crashed again from the clouds and the rain began to fall in sheets.

Part of his mind wondered if this was it; the slippery night would cause her to fall from his arms, or he'd slip on his reins and a cruel scythe of magic would cut him down. He could only fight to breathe as he kept pushing Roland to move faster, zig-zagging and cutting in the skies. Dread hung thick over his shoulders, any moment could very well be their last.

Time started to race by, slow and fast all at once. Then he felt a hot dampness seep into his clothes, on the shoulder he held her. Ashe gripped her tighter and dove for the base of the Oghma Mountains.

\--

Roland landed, heavy, into the cave's entrance. A pure stroke of luck, if Ashe was being honest with himself, not more than a blip of black that they'd been lucky enough to draw close to. 

Gently, he set Petra down. She was out cold, but breathing. He double-checked anyway. Satisfied, he rummaged through his bags in the dark, finding a torch and lighting it. The stony cavern was bleak, but thankfully empty, tapering off not far into the mountain. He set it down as well, finding his bedroll and hastily spreading it out. He picked her up and placed her on it.

He undid her armor as quickly and gently as he could manage. Sweat was running down his face, heat still weeping from the slice in his leg. He couldn't let up now. Plates gone, he peeled away the padding she wore. The wind magic had finally tore through her enchantments, gashes running along her arm and up her chest and a shoulder. They wove throughout her torso, draining the lifeblood from her. Her skin was black and purple where it wasn't red.

"Fuck. _Fuck_." Ashe tore off his gauntlets, his hands slipping on the metal. Finally free, he pressed his fingers onto her wounds, grasping at the well of energy he'd been trained to find. The faith magic was slow but responsive. He could feel the healing spell begin to swell inside of him.

The seconds passed like ages--and all he could do was breathe and watch her, watch the blood continue to spill and only pray he'd be quick enough. The stress was crushing him like a vise.

Mercifully, a white glow flared up in the cave, illuminating them both. He could see the threads of energy begin to work as it melded into her gashes, pulling the flesh together and sealing it closed. The bruises were still angry, the bones beneath battered and sore, but the blood started to cease.

Ashe gnashed his teeth together, still pouring in what little faith magic he knew. The wounds kept closing, the skin repairing itself. His reservoir was growing thin. He fought through the strain, watching as Petra finally started to look whole again. Her blood had soaked deep into his hands by now, but it had stopped flowing.

He rolled over and crashed hard into the stone, his armor clattering. Ashe was spent, completely, from the inside out. Every muscle was smoldering from overuse, and the spirit within him had been sapped dry. He wanted nothing more than to pass out, to succumb to the exhaustion and let go. 

She'd probably be okay.

That wasn't good enough. With a groan, Ashe forced himself upright, looking around. The storm had worsened, the rain was heavy and the thunder furious. They'd likely be stuck here for the night, as neither of them were in much condition to fly under even normal circumstances.

He stumbled out into the mouth of the cave, collecting what dry kindling he could find on the floor, protected by the overhang. He brought it back, dumping it around his torch, setting a small fire. Out came his metal canteen and he placed it within, letting the water heat up.

Ashe took off his own plated armor as he waited. He examined the slice on his thigh--not terribly deep, but concerning nonetheless. He tried summoning faith magic, but found himself absolutely tapped. Fine, the old way then. He took the canteen back, letting it cool, and dressed the wound with some hot water and fresh bandages.

There was still a lot of boiled water left, and plenty more from the rains outside if he really needed it. Ashe looked over to Petra. She was still covered in blood, now slowly drying. With a self-conscious sigh, he took out a fresh bandage from his bags and dampened them.

Getting off her heavy padding was... uncomfortable. Somewhere a voice screamed in the back of his mind, so disturbed by how he worked, so improper and _un-knightly_. But it was positively soaked through, and the multitude of hazards of staying in it on a cold spring night outweighed the dangers. He tossed the ruined armor to the side.

Ashe cleaned her up as best he could, wiping away most of the blood that lingered. The soot on her face came off easily enough, but lingered in her hair. Fine, better than nothing. The minutes flew by as he worked in silence, trying to look as little as possible, focusing on keeping the cloth clean and fed with hot water. 

Satisfied, he rose shakily to his feet, glad to get off his knees for a moment. The sharp exhaustion he had felt earlier had dulled, though it was far more dangerous this way--it lingered in the background, always tempting him to close his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Petra, making sure she was still breathing.

For the hundredth time, yes, she was.

Well fine. Still he was growing more uncomfortable around her by the second, clad in nothing but her cloth bindings above the waist. Scouring his bags, he found his blanket, heavy and woolen. He draped it over her gently, tucking it in around her shoulders. Between that and the fire, she'd be okay, he thought, with more certainty this time.

Well, that was her sorted. He turned around, scanning the cave. Roland had since curled up into a ball, sleeping with the fire's glow. Fine, snuggling with his wyvern would have to do.

"Ashe?" a weak voice croaked. "Is- is that you?"

He whirled around, too quickly for his own good. Petra's eyes were staring back, barely sparkling under heavy lids. She hadn't moved from where he had left her, just awake.

"It is." He closed the gap, hurrying back to her, kneeling close. "Oh goddess, are you feeling okay?"

Petra dimly looked around, confused, before she found him again. Maybe it was just him, but she seemed to soften once she did. "There is pain, but... it is not too much." Lumps moved under the blanket, her own hands searching and patting. "You have been healing me?"

He nodded, relief pouring through him. "Yes, but don't worry about that now, all right?" Tentatively, he reached out and touched her forehead. "Just get some rest."

She smiled. Her hand reached up and clasped over his, pressing it into her hair. "Thank you. I have safety when you are around."

"O- oh." Her hands were cold, and yet he couldn't break away. "I'm... uh, glad to help."

Petra nodded, though her movements were languid, her normally-sharp gaze zoning out. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes and humming. "Very safe."

Chills crept up his back. The tone in her words was closing in on feelings he wasn't ready to talk about, with himself no less. Any half-baked idea of confessing was madness. She was beautiful, strong and chivalrous, but with the war going on, it felt selfish to bring his own feelings into play. "I try. Get some sleep, okay?"

He tried pulling away, but she clasped onto his hand. In her weakened state, it'd have been child's play to tear his arm free--but at the same time, he couldn't. Petra had never been this fragile before; if holding his hand was what she needed, he'd allow it without hesitation.

"Soon, yes, rest is important. Though I... I..." She looked about, completely at a loss for words. _Goddess_ , how much blood did she lose? Petra ceased gesticulating, capturing his eyes again. "There are ideas I must be telling you."

"Ah, all right. What is it?" Ashe asked. His heart was beginning the thump loudly. She sounded so certain, so sure of herself despite everything. Was something wrong?

"I am... I will be returning to Brigid when we are winning. Will you be joining me?"

Ashe let his breath go. Finally, she seemed more in control, more lucid. Plus, the answer was easy. "Of course. I already agreed to start an order there, remember? No need to worry."

"Oh, yes," Petra agreed, though her worried frown persisted. "I am not meaning- do not have confusion... I am..." she sighed, once again slipping back into her delirium. 

"Tell me in the morning, okay?" Ashe tried to give her a reassuring smile. He rubbed his thumb along her hairline, hoping it'd help her relax. "You need to rest."

Petra shook her head. "There are things I am needing to speak first. I am wanting you to know... you must be knowing what I am asking."

"I... I'm sorry?"

"Come to Brigid, yes. But..." She bit into her lip, searching for the right words. Then it all dissipated, her expression mellowing, her gaze meeting his. She pulled his hand down, dipping over the curves of her cheeks and nose, before it reached her mouth. Hot breath flowed against his palm as she kissed it--once, twice, three times.

Shock seized him. All at once he wanted to pull away, jump for joy, and kiss her back--he couldn't. No, this was wrong. She was clearly not in control. The correct, knightly thing to do was to smile, say something kind but dismissive, and let her sleep.

"Huh?" was all he could manage, like an idiot.

She pulled his hand away, still holding it in her trembling fingers. Her voice came out small, an endearing blush rising on her cheeks. "I am asking for more than a knight. After... _this_ , I am understanding time can be taken away. I want you to be knowing."

Thunder boomed outside, yet Ashe remained rooted to the spot. His mouth hung wide open, an ungodly heat rushing to his face. Relief, sadness, fear, elation--all swarmed his senses. How could anyone respond?

Petra's eyes fell to the floor as time dragged by. "Oh. Are you not feeling the same?"

"Huh- what- no- I'm not--" his backlog of thoughts fell out in pieces "--hold... hold on. I- I'm just surprised, that's all. Sorry, I..." He exhaled, loud and long. Ashe rubbed his neck, trying to piece together those dormant feelings on the fly. "I think... I think I'd like that."

"Yes?" Hope surged back in her voice, her whole face brightening. "To be with me?"

Another shaky breath, and he nodded. "Well, yeah. You're kind of incredible--you're so smart and funny, not to mention brave and strong and... ah..." He supposed it was beyond the point of worrying over such things, "Gorgeous, honestly."

A squeaky, embarrassed laugh came from her lips, ducking her head at the compliments. "Your words are not fair! You have grown much in five years. I have been staring often, wondering..."

A few seconds passed. Ashe grew worried at her blank stare, leaning in closer. "Wondering about what?"

Petra shook herself. "I want to know..." She reached out, snaking a hand around his neck and guiding him down.

Ashe felt himself fall closer and closer, entranced within the moment. He kissed her softly, so gently given her state. Alarm bells were ringing in the background, growing louder and louder with each second. Eventually they cut through his haze of emotions, guilt outweighing the joy.

He broke away, breathing deeply, a hand still cupping her cheek. "Petra... Petra, I can't do it like this."

A sadness welled in her eyes, lancing through whatever barriers he tried to put up. Goddess, it hurt worse than any wind magic. "What are you meaning?"

"Look, you've lost so much blood." He put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly. " _So much_. For a while there I was really worried, and-" he exhaled, trying to pull himself together. "I need to be sure this is... actually what you want. I'm sorry, but if tomorrow comes and this isn't true and I just took advantage of you, I could never forgive myself."

Petra still looked crestfallen, but she rose to meet his eyes. "I... am having understanding. But my words are still true. I have been feeling this way since the academy--I want you to be knowing this."

A grin rose on Ashe's face, involuntary. It helped push his guilt back down, enough to be honest with her. "I think- I think it's been the same way for me, too. And... if we're being honest, I'm scared about something else. I know what it's like to lose a lot of blood--I want to make sure you remember, you know?"

"The kissing?" A soft, weary smile began to return on her face.

"Yeah. First kisses are... important--to me at least. So, can we hold off for a little bit? Is that okay?"

She sighed but nodded. "I can be agreeing, if you are promising to make up for time lost."

Ashe found his face growing hot again. "I... I'd like that, yes." He rose to his feet, coughing nervously. "So, uh... good night? You should really get some rest. L- let me know if you need anything." He turned around, heading for his wyvern.

"Wait, where are you resting?" Petra asked, calling out. "The night will have much coldness in it."

He paused, looking back. There was some inkling of what she was about to suggest. "I think I'll be fine with Roland, don't worry about me."

"I take back my agreement. You will be needing to share this blanket."

Ashe shook his head. "I... I can't. Besides, you're hurt."

"There will be pain for me either way. I am not minding." She gave him a look. "You provide feelings of safety--I am remembering my words. I would... also be liking that."

He sighed, at a crossroads. His stomach still squirmed at the thought, at the implications that could arise very easily.

"Do not be worrying, I will be respecting your boundaries," Petra assured him. "I cannot be sleeping if you are doing the same in the cold. Please, the closeness is not only for me. You were saving my life--sharing warmth is the smallest repayment."

Well, she _did_ need to rest. They both did. And while the chill overnight probably wouldn't kill him, it'd make his life very difficult.

He turned around, awkwardly patting down the cloth padding and riding pants he still wore. "All right. I... guess I can't argue with that."

Petra smiled. "Good." She rolled over as he grew closer, her back facing him. Unsure, he lowered himself onto the bedroll beside her, turned away, and draped what he could of the blanket over his shoulder.

Even through his padding, he could feel her body heat. It was seeping into his own chest, his heart thumping louder. "There we go. Comfortable?" he asked. "I can sleep on the stone if I'm taking up too much room."

Petra's back pressed into his. "There is just enough space." Her hair tickled the back of his neck. "Sleep well, Ashe."

"Good night, Petra." The weariness in his limbs took over quickly, despite it all.

\--

Petra awoke to her whole body pulsing with dull pain. Her mind felt dreadfully foggy, and something itchy was brushing the tip of her nose. She groaned and opened her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat, trying to figure out the sight before her. Ashe's face was inches away, still asleep. She was resting in the crook of his shoulder, one arm draped over his chest as he still slumbered on his back.

 _Spirits_ , her body felt so weak, light-headed and dizzy--presumably from blood loss, she gathered. All she could remember was the fighting, the ferocious bid to buy those villagers some time, then a whirl of blue magic and--here she was? Not dead at any rate. 

Petra awkwardly sunk back into his shoulder, growing nauseous as the room continued to spin. Maybe she was still dreaming? There had been... a pathetically large amount that started like this. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore how hot and flustered she felt. Any moment now, she'd wake back up.

The seconds ticked by, marked only by the rising and falling of Ashe's chest. Other sounds filtered in: a steady drizzle outside, the distant rumble of thunder, and the snoring of a wyvern.

Chills clawed through her gut. Dreams were never this vivid. Oh by the winds and the ocean, what happened?

She picked her head up again, looking at him closely. Slowly, the haziest memories and emotions began to trickle back in, one by one, growing with clarity as the beginning of last night's events progressed in her mind's eye.

Petra found her mouth hanging open, shock and embarrassment rising. She tried to make sense of it all--and _oh spirits_ did she really start kissing his hands? She slammed her eyes shut, letting out a low groan.

She wanted to find the nearest boulder and live under it forever.

Ashe's breathing halted in its rhythm. He sniffed, the cadence changing. His body shifted.

Petra scanned the room. Perhaps she could hide in the shadows, or bolt out the entrance. As much as she wanted to, she was in no shape to move. Maybe she could just pretend to be asleep?

She looked back, and found him slowly opening his eyes. 

Fuck.

"Uhh..." Any attempt at a clever greeting died in her throat. "You."

Ashe blinked the sleep from his eyes. "Me?" he asked, piecing together the moment. Then he stiffened with a gasp. "Oh! I- I can move!"

Petra reflexively put her hand on his chest as he tried to shuffle away. The jostling sent her whole world upside down. "Do not- no! Please stop. My head-"

Ashe froze, staring up at her. "Right! Oh my goodness, are you okay?"

She tried to shrug. "I am... I do not know? The moving has not been good."

"Of course. What- what can I do?"

"I am needing more rest." Petra pulled her hand away from his chest, suddenly aware of it. "Will you be minding if I... ah, return?"

"To? ...Oh! Uh, right- _that_." Ashe chuckled nervously. "Sure."

Petra sucked in a breath as she slowly put her head back down. His arm shifted to make space, wrapping around her shoulders.

Nobody said anything for a full minute. Ashe stared up at the ceiling, Petra looked over at Roland's sleeping form. She felt like an imposter in her own skin, so awkward and embarrassed.

More memories floated back into her mind. 

Forget finding a boulder, just cast her into the sea.

"We were kissing?" the question blurted out.

"Ah... yes."

"And then you were being kind- and then I was convincing you to sleep..." Petra turned her face into the blanket and groaned again.

"Yeah."

It was decided. Despite the creeping realization that Ashe might return her feelings, this life was over; she could still give up her crown and live as a hermit in Morfis-

"Petra? Are you okay?"

She looked up at him and shook her head.

"We can forget this happened, all right? If what you said last night wasn't true- well, I can understand."

Spirits, that only made her feel worse. The dejection in his voice was crushing. "There- there is no need for that. I am- those words... they have truth."

"Oh?"

She gave a tiny nod. Suddenly the cave felt much smaller. "I was having hope that I would be telling you... better."

Ashe chuckled, full of nerves. Okay, so neither of them really knew what to do. It made her feel a tiny bit better.

"Well, I'm glad you did. You were right last night--time's kind of a luxury right now."

"Yes," she agreed. Part of her felt somber at that, but another was glowing. Petra shifted, looking up at him better. "And now I am remembering... you had a promise last night?"

He smiled, though his cheeks tinted a wonderful red. Ashe paused, hesitant, maybe nervous.

She wanted to wrap him up right then and there. Come on, you adorable dummy. "There was not waiting before," she teased.

"Yeah, well, you were the one-"

Petra shot him a look. 

"-oh, right."

He moved, his arm leaving her shoulders. Suddenly his face was level with hers, both of them on their sides under the blanket. One of his hands held her cheek, the other resting on her shoulder.

She still felt dreadfully sore, but for some reason it didn't bother her anymore.

"So, uh, like this?" he asked, low and breathy, and leaned in.

The kiss was better this time, not shrouded in a loopy, exhausted state. Both their lips were chapped, their skin rough and dry, and hints of chill worked under the blanket from time to time--but somehow, that made it better. The flaws made it all the more real.

**Author's Note:**

> There was an ending where the search party (Ingrid & Sylvain) found them together, with relentless teasing/embarrassment, but that clashed too hard with most of this. Not that Petra/Ashe don't deserve a silly fic or five.


End file.
